


In Spring, When They Bloom

by lilac_drop



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Character Study, First Love, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post Revelation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilac_drop/pseuds/lilac_drop
Summary: "What do you dream of?" Leo asked, rolling on his side, outline just a blur in the dark.You, Takumi wanted to answer, but instead he replied, "The war. My mother. What else should I dream of?""Love, perhaps. But maybe that's just for fairy tales. I read a lot of those when I was a boy."-Post-war, from winter to spring, two princes come to terms.





	1. I.

“The world is full of painful stories. Sometimes it seems as though there aren’t any other kind…there is no end to what a living world will demand of you.” – Octavia Butler, Parable of the Sower

 

I.

 

There was sweat on the back of his neck. He could feel it real as day, wet and slipping beneath the collar of his loose yukata. This was a dream, _I’m dreaming,_ he had dreamt it twice in the past month. It was the same each time, fragmented and soft, everything split like a kaleidoscope. The rustle of a summer breeze through the tree above him, the rough feeling of an exposed root knocking against his knees as he fell to the ground.

Before him, Leo lay on his side. His gaze was immediately pulled to the prince’s white thighs, an expanse of skin that stretched over hard muscle, nearly glowing in the bright Hoshido sun. Takumi could feel his breath shudder, opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Of course it didn’t. Each time, he felt himself rendered speechless, throat constricting as if it were afraid of whatever would come crawling out.

Then Leo rolled over onto his back, the borrowed yukata falling open and Takumi couldn’t look away. Takumi _wanted _to look, even though his face felt like it was on fire, some mixture of shame and embarrassment and longing. The longing, he figured, was the worst. But he kept his knees firmly planted, eyes on Leo, and Leo searched his face like he was looking for some kind of answer. His mouth moved, but Takumi couldn’t hear him.__

____

What had the question been? God, why couldn’t he speak?

The sun revealed each striation of red and brown in Leo’s eyes, dark as dried blood, almost as serious, but the long shadows that his eyelashes cast upon his cheekbones made him look soft. Soft enough to touch without getting hurt.

“Takumi,” said Leo, barely audible even though they were so close. Leo’s voice sounded distant, like he was speaking from a couple rooms away. Takumi strained to hear him, strained to say something or anything at all.

“Where have you gone?” Leo asked, and his lips trembled like they never would in the waking world. When Takumi reaches out to grab his wrist - the only thing he can do without a voice - Leo is suddenly vanished within the same breath. There is not a moment to gather himself before the dream starts dissolving, pulled away from his mind like the tide on low.

Then he breaks, head above water.

Surfacing to consciousness is quick this time, disorienting, as if someone had tied him in a sack and shaken him upside down. It took a moment for him to realize where he was – not his futon back home, but the wide bed of Nohrian making. There was a chill creeping through his bones, and he looked toward the fireplace. The fire had long burned down, only a few embers simmering deep and low. His gaze crawled along the floor, and with horror, he saw that the window had come unlatched and blown open. Snow was all over the floor and accumulating quickly, whipping in from the storm outside.

“No, gods,” he muttered as he threw the covers off of his body and scrambled up, stumbling when his feet hit the floor. He was used to rolling out and up from a bed, not dropping down. Why did they have to build bed frames so high up off the ground? Literally, what was the point?

He shuddered across the room and slammed the window shut, fighting against the wind as it struggled to push in. Takumi slid the latch firmly in place, taking care to insure it was actually going to stay there this time. The sudden silence was nearly as deafening as the shrieking of the wind had been. The tips of his ears were cold and achy, whole body covered in goosebumps, and he wondered just how long the window had been open. Had he really been that deeply asleep? He stood there for a moment, palm pressed on the cold glass of the window, and sighed. His warm breath made a cloud on the glass that fanned outward before slowly dissipating.

The goal had been that the change of scenery would make the dream go away, keep him busy - he had come to Nohr just three days past, and was constantly exhausted from the meetings and mingling. Xander was a fresh king, and Corrin too. Complete peace, as it was, proved fragile. Even with the kingdoms now joined in a truce, it did nothing to erase what had happened. The land and their relations had been ravaged by war, and they ate the consequences now like a bitter fruit. But even exhaustion couldn’t rest his mind, apparently. Added with the strain of being surrounded by darkness, in a land he spent so long hating and still balked at, he found himself more disquieted than he had hoped. In all fairness, the hope had never exactly been high.

Takumi crossed his arms, stared out at the courtyard that had been blanketed in snow. It was most likely snowing back home, too, but somehow winters there did not seem so harsh. Everything in Nohr was cold and stark, shrouded still in a kind of gloom that Garon had left in his wake. It was like a disease.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t feel so alone. He had agreed to come as a filler for Ryouma, who was back in Hoshido busy with a new council and could not travel for another week, at least. Hinoka and Sakura were with him, assisting as they did. But Takumi, though capable, had grudgingly volunteered to go. He had wondered, what was the harm? He would only be without Ryouma for a week or so, and all he had to do was bring documents and announcements in Ryouma’s place. Then Ryouma would be here, he and Xander could do the dirty work, and Takumi would be free to assist Leo with coming strategies for a quickly morphing army. The best laid plans, and all that.

He had found himself at every damn meeting between Xander and his council, Xander and the leader of two neighboring towns, Xander and some random duke. It wouldn’t’ve come as a surprise if Xander had called Takumi in to his bedroom to discuss the outfit for the day. Well, that was unfair (mostly). Takumi had wrongly assumed that there would be less demanded from him, seeing as he wasn’t _actually_ Ryouma. It still surprised him that others found him just as capable as his older brother. It was flattering, a source of pride – and great stress.

Nohr didn’t feel as hostile as it used to, but it still made him uncomfortable to be here, and there was no Ryouma, no Hinoka or Sakura.

No Leo.

The man was out scouting, gathering public opinion from nearby villages that often got overlooked. It wasn’t exactly shocking to find out that crime had risen, as it was wont to do during wartime. Nearby townships were in distress, ravaged by poverty and rather sudden violence. Nohr and Hoshido had a continued responsibility to its people, especially now that the dust had settled, more or less. And that meant cleaning up the messes that they hadn’t had the time or resources to clean before.

Leo was expected back in a day or so, and Takumi was both excited and anxious to see his new friend once more. They hadn’t seen each other in a few months, and considering how close they had grown in camp, their relationship tentative but promising, it was a odd to be in Leo's homeland when the prince himself wasn't here. He had Oboro and Hinata on the daily, which was reassuring as always, but he was slowly coming to accept the fact that he _missed _Leo. He missed talking about books, and playing shogi (or chess, if it was Leo’s turn to pick), and getting stuck on kitchen duty together. He even missed all of their arguing and bickering, because hell, no one could insult him quite like Leo could.__

____

Did their time apart explain the dream, then? That question Leo asked each and every time?

_Where have you gone?_

They had both gone, returning home in the resounding wake of a war. There was security in the fact that they would see each other again. Takumi couldn’t parse through what the dream meant; for all he was coming up with, it made no sense. Not his inability to speak, nor Leo’s question, or his…apparent nudity. They were friends who had seen each other naked once or twice in the actual waking world, bathing after fights while groaning from the various aches and cuts. It was nothing new.

Then why did thinking back to Leo’s exposed form in the dream make him quiver, worse than any window left open? Thinking of his friend like that, bare thighs and eyes that looked straight through him – he didn’t want to dwell on it. He was trying not to. And it seemed, admittedly, like he was failing. Takumi certainly wasn’t the local expert on staying collected, and somehow, Leo just had a way of keeping him frazzled, whether he was there in person or not.

With a huff and sigh, Takumi jumped back in bed, yanked the covers up to his chin, and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

* * *

 

“Lord Takumi, you know it is my _life’s purpose _to serve you…” Hinata started.__

____

__

“Uh-huh.”

“But I think we’re going to freeze to death, and I can’t protect us from that.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Takumi replied, teeth chattering, as if he of all people had any right to be talking about dramatic. They waded through the snow, and even wrapped up in their furs, it was still horribly numbing. Sensing the irony, Hinata threw him a wary look, and Takumi rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps we went out at a bad time,” he said then, begrudgingly, refusing to outright admit that them being trapped in what was becoming a snowstorm was his fault. Takumi was going stircrazy in that damned castle, and when announcing that he was going for a hike, Hinata had insisted he come along. They made Oboro stay, and she at the very least had the decency to feign disappointment.

Their little stroll had quickly become a game of ‘didn’t we see that tree 3 times in a row?’ and they had to combine brain power to figure out where in the hell they had wandered off to in the delightful forest of pure menace. All trees looked the same, and most ground landmarks that they could have used were blanketed by the snow. By the time they managed a way back to a main road, the snow was falling heavy. The sun had rolled farther in the sky, and soon, it would be dark. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying not to worry over the passage of time. 

“You might be on to something, my Lord.”

“Don’t get smart.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Frustrated, Takumi kicked at the snow, but it only got picked up by a gust of wind and blown back into his face. Hinata snorted loudly, and his amusement was luckily masked by the sound of the incoming storm, otherwise Takumi would have snatched him up. They walked in mutually miserable silence then, rounding a large curve in the road, heads down against the sting of the flakes. What was only minutes felt like hours, and he swore to the gods, his feet were going to fall off. They were  _numb._ Now more than ever, he missed the warmth of his homelands. Nohr was insufferable.

They felt the presence of others before they could hear them. Takumi paused, eyebrows scrunching, sure he felt eyes on his back. He and Hinata turned at the same time, and back at the bend they had just passed emerged a whole group of riders. Nohrians, perched on their large horses, moving through the snow at the best speed they could muster. They both stopped in their tracks, staring. It only took a few moments for Takumi to realize who was leading the entire troop – there was Leo, dark fur coat draped over the gleam of his black armor, his stallion protected and heavy with similar metal.

“I never thought I’d say this,” Hinata said, practically yelling over the sound of the wind as it picked up, “but I think the Nohrians are about to save our asses.”

Takumi didn’t respond to his retainer's quip, instead grabbing Hinata’s arm and pulling him from the middle of the road. His heart was doing that weird thing it did where it felt like it was jumping all around in his chest, and he willed it to calm. It was easy enough to pass off as a jangle of nerves from not having seen his friend in a long while, because here he was, unexpected. Takumi felt unprepared.

“What are you doing out here?” Leo called as the troop approached, and his face was a mixture of surprise and distress. He pulled his horse to a stop beside them, and the steed danced in place for a second, perturbed by the sudden halt. “Fools! You could have been buried!”

“Nice to see you too,” Takumi replied, having to shield his eyes from the snow as he looked upward. Leo’s mouth twitched into an almost smile, and Takumi felt a relieved ache at how the familiarity was somehow both surprising and not surprising at all.

“Nice to see you still alive. Come along. We’ll get you back,” Leo said, and flicked his hand in an obvious gesture. Niles rode up farther, nodding at the two unlucky souls on the ground. Leo's retainer looked smarmy as ever, but it was obvious that Niles was suffering just as much as the rest of them.

“Prince Takumi. Hinata. I would say it’s a pleasant surprise,” Niles greeted, and they all winced when a sudden gust of wind all but blew them from the road.

“Hinata, ride with Niles. Takumi, with me. The castle is not far – let’s get there in one piece.”

At that, Hinata didn’t have to be told twice. He sludged through the snow and took the hand Niles offered, swinging himself up onto the horse with ease. In all fairness, Niles’ steed was much shorter, stockier, and closer to the ground. But Leo’s horse was _huge_ , probably because Leo was all long limbs, and Takumi felt himself frown.

“Come on, then,” said Leo, and he pulled his foot from the stirrup at the same time he held out a clawed hand. “Leg up. Or are you shy?”

“I’m not _shy_ ,” Takumi snapped, and took Leo’s hand, vigorously hiking his leg and jamming his foot into the stirrup. He had to bounce a few times to build momentum before he could scramble up, and Leo’s horse shifted, annoyed with the new weight.

“Right, not shy. Just short.”

“This is how you treat a friend you haven’t seen in months?” he said, settling uncomfortably, and he was forced to grab Leo’s shoulder when the prince moved his horse forward with no warning.

“Would you have expected any less?” Leo replied, now having to yell in earnest to be heard as they sluiced through the grind of the storm. Takumi wanted to retort, but he found himself snorting instead. Oh, he had missed this.

Oh.

The horse’s heavy feathered legs punched through the snow, and Takumi finally wrapped his arms around Leo’s middle, actively attempting to not be jolted off. It was hard to avoid being pressed right up against the other, and Takumi turned his head to the side, squinting to keep the snowflakes from stinging his eyes. This close, he felt every breath Leo took, and there it was again, the heart kicking in his chest like it was trying to bust right out.

Flushed, he pressed his cheek as lightly as he could into the fur that wrapped over Leo’s shoulder, convinced that if anyone even tried to make comment, he would blame it on a neck made stiff from the cold.

 

* * *

 

Castle Krakenburg was, in one prince’s humble opinion, extremely fucking creepy.

Bias might matter here, but Takumi couldn’t get used to the grey stone walls, the constant shadows, the clanking and clatters that sometimes arose from the castle itself. Leo said that was just it “settling”, and Takumi had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but it was still terrifying.

Some parts of the castle were objectively worse than others: the east wing, mostly empty since Garon’s passing; the basement level, which was creepy by principal; and the communal bathing room. Each of the nicer rooms in the castle had a bath, but they didn’t always draw hot water, depending on who else in the castle was hogging the water at the time.

So Takumi, dripping wet by melted snow and cold as no one’s business, made his way to the baths after trying and failing to get hot water in his private room. The upside of the baths? They were always steamy, and the water teemed with oils that the servants poured in during the small hours of the morning. Downside? Takumi was ninety-nine percent sure that it was haunted. It was one large, echoing chamber with no windows, dim lit and eerily quiet when no one was there to fill it with talking.

As much as he valued his privacy, Takumi hated being in there alone, so it was discomforting to find the room empty when he arrived. He undressed quickly, not even bothering to fold his clothes before practically running down the stone steps and plunking himself in the water. The heat seeped into his skin immediately, and he let out one long sigh of a breath that he hadn't even known he was holding.

As soon as the splash settled, it was quiet again. He stayed in the middle, unwilling to lean against the sides; at least in the middle, he could look around the room as he wished. If a ghost was going to pick a fight now, he’d see it coming.

Takumi sank down until the water hit his chin, silver hair spread around him like seaweed. After supper, he had a meeting to attend. Leo’s return meant Xander had called for them to meet as soon as possible, and Takumi feared what Leo might present to them after scouting around Windmire. It was bad out there in the public, he knew, but to what extent was a mystery. He wondered, idly, if Leo would have the energy to keep him company after the meeting was over.

They had only gotten a scarce moment to speak after arriving at the castle, and then Xander was spiriting Leo away, intent on discussion. The duties of a prince, it seemed, were never done. Taking a deep breath, he plunged himself under the water, eyes squeezed shut. For just a few moments – for as long as he could hold his breath – he wanted his thoughts to be silent. Underneath the surface, it was just him and the thumping of his heart, calmed. His face went slack, and he allowed himself to be suspended by the water; it was like being cradled, or held in the arms of a lover, though Takumi knew nothing about that. No one had held him since his mother, when he was a young boy.

Sometimes, he felt his loneliness like a crater, deep and hollow. It was eased by the presence of his siblings, his friends – but late at night, lying in bed, he marveled at the way his chest grew heavy, like the force of his thoughts all decided to crush him inwards at once. There, he was alone to nightmares and worries about what was to come: his position as a prince, what it meant to live now in the wake of the war, what he was going to _do_ with all his time. There were no arms to hold him tight and keep him from splintering apart. He thought that the end of the war would ease his stresses, but instead, they only shifted.

But being in the water was not like a dark bedroom, tossing and turning. It was a bubble, not a cavern. It was momentary peace. 

He waited until his lungs began to burn fiercely before he broke the surface, gasping.

“Trying to drown yourself?” Came a familiar voice behind him, but still, it was unexpected and loud in the echoes of the room. Takumi whipped around so fast that his hair slapped him in the face, and there at the edge of the bath stood Leo, eyebrows raised.

“What are you doing?!” Takumi sputtered indignantly, reaching up to hastily pick the wet hair from his cheeks. When Leo laughed his nice prim little laugh, Takumi huffed.

“I came to the bathing room. To take a bath. You still haven’t denied trying to drown yourself,” Leo replied, pulling the black tunic over his head and letting it drop to join Takumi’s clothes. His headband was already gone, so he was practically naked already – Takumi never saw him without the dumb thing.

Still, Takumi sank down to his nose and spun back around, aware that Leo was getting naked as the day he was born right there beside him. Whatever, he told himself; they had seen each other in communal baths before.

“It’s nice,” he said finally, after he was sure Leo was in and all vulnerable body parts were temporarily out of sight.

“What’s nice?”

“The water. It’s quiet when you’re under,” he clarified, drifting back to face Leo, who was leaning against the stone siding with no care to whatever ghost might sneak up behind him. Though, this was his childhood home. He was probably polite acquaintances with various entities that might roam around.

“When I was little,” Leo started, “I would beg the maids to let me stay in the bath for hours, because it comforted me. If they were feeling generous, they’d let me stay in until my fingers pruned, at the very least.” He paused. “I read in a book once that being underwater mimics the womb.”

“Doctors and poets love to relate everything back to the womb,” Takumi replied, pointedly ignoring the way Leo’s prominent collarbones glistened in the damp of the steam. “Can we just say it’s nice and call it a day?”

“You don’t like thinking of the maternal connotations of water? Where’s that scholarly mind?” Leo said, wrinkling his nose, and Takumi rolled his eyes so hard they could have fallen from the back of his head.

“I’d rather spend more time on my history books and less time reading about wombs,” he said dryly.

“Point. I think we can both agree that we’re not exactly fans of poetics. Though nothing’s ever wrong with a traditional epic.”

“I’ve read a few. I still take some issues with the war epics, all things considered…”

And they continued on like that, in their way, chatting until their fingers pruned and Leo complained. Takumi had forgotten just how easy it was to talk with Leo, how it had both shocked and angered him when he first understood how much they had in common. He had worried that their time apart would make it hard to connect again, set them back, but was relieved when it was obvious it would not be so.

Here, in Nohr, in this unforgiving castle frought with so much past, he was grateful for comforts. He wasn't sure when Leo's presence had become such a comfort, exactly, and it concerned him.

That was a thought he'd leave for when he was laying in bed, sleepless.

Emerging from the water, Leo went to fetch them towels while Takumi stood there awkwardly, dripping and naked. He didn’t actually _mean_ to look, but it was kind of impossible to not glance at Leo as he walked away. The Nohrian prince was taller than Takumi, slender, so sometimes Takumi forgot that he was rather muscular underneath all of the armor.

His gaze lingered on the long scar that ran across Leo’s right shoulder blade, just encroaching onto the vertebrae of his spine. There was not one of them who didn’t have scars, but Leo’s was deep, fresh, cultivated during the war. Takumi hadn’t been there when Leo had fallen on the field, bleeding and raw, and he felt illogical guilt over that fact. If Corrin had just selected him to go that day, someone else could have been wearing the scar.

And how easy it would have been to _be _the one to give Leo that scar, it Corrin hadn't begged and scraped for understanding between the kingdoms. It was not long ago that Takumi would have buried an arrow right into Leo's heart, if he had the shot.__

____

Takumi wondered what Leo thought of it all now, this newfound and teetering peace. 

“Coin for your thoughts?” Leo asked, and Takumi suddenly veered back into the present moment, opening his hands on autopilot as Leo placed a towel into them.

“It’d be a wasted coin,” he replied, toweling his body as quickly as he could before tying it around his waist. “My mind was just wandering.”

“It must go somewhere far,” Leo said, and Takumi couldn’t tell if it was a tease or not, but he shoved Leo’s shoulder anyway. The pale skin was warm, wet, and Takumi turned his head.

“Are you prepared for the meeting?” he asked, switching gears, and Leo’s face grew a little grim, like a window shudder had just befallen it.

“There’s much to discuss. Unfortunately, it seems like the meeting will be long. My travels were eventful, and I don’t mean that positively.”

“I didn’t assume so.”

“It’s grim,” was all the summary Leo gave, before he slung the towel around his shoulder and went to go pick up his clothes. “But I’m confident that we can figure out some sort of solution, as always. We’ve never failed before.”

“Hoshido and Nohr have two of the best strategists they could ask for,” Takumi said, shrugging, and when Leo gave him a small half-smile, he continued, “so of course we haven’t failed.”

“So myself, and…who else?”

“You have three seconds to run, I swear to the gods.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 84,000 years later, I'm finally finishing a Takuleo chapter that I started in the Stone Age. I love these princes so much, and I want to see this multi-chapter story through (alongside doing shorter one-shots). As always, thank you for reading, and any commentary/kudos are appreciated!
> 
> You can find me at laceandcaramel.tumblr.com or seafoam_sighs on Instagram.


	2. II.

II.

The first time Leo saw Takumi out on the battlefield, his immediate thought was, _that’s trouble._

He was a logical man, but something in his gut rose up to rattle him in that very moment, clear as day. And, as much as he believed in the power of the brain, he also knew that instincts never really lied.

Needless to say, he had been right. Just because they eventually and begrudgingly stopped trying to kill each other didn’t mean anything for how they spent their time once they were forced onto the same team. Some days they didn’t speak at all, occupying each other’s space tensely because, frankly, camp wasn't that big and they both had pretty terrible luck. Other days, Takumi hollered at the top of his lungs while Leo seethed and spat, their fights edging violence on more than one occasion.

Everyone else just watched it all happen, concerned at first, and then bemused. Wouldn’t they see, those silly princes, that they had so much in common if they could _just get along?_ Leo didn’t want to get along with the youngest Hoshido boy, he didn’t even want to breathe the same air.

The kicker was that, if Leo really wanted to, he could find a way to avoid the other man. He was clever enough to figure a schedule where they weren't even in the same vicinity. Yet he kept letting the run-ins happen, kept crashing into the annoying prince with vigor even when he knew it was childish.

Fighting with Takumi had brought him some kind of dark pleasure – insulting him, seeing him get red in the face and watery eyed (Takumi would never admit it, but his eyes tended to water when he got worked up) – because it was like spitting right in his face without actually doing it.

They fed off each other, in that way, biting and snarling at each other’s heels like two feral dogs. Years of hating each other on sheer principle funneled like a tornado, culminating into insults that dragged salt right through still-raw wounds. It was as immature as it was strangely cathartic.

And then time does what it will always do. It passed.

They collected more people in their army. Leo, forced into interacting with Takumi so much, slowly grew exhausted from the ugly verbal matches and rages. It was small yet significant things – noticing Takumi was reading a book he had read before and loved, covering each other on the battlefield as loyal teammates do, sitting by the fire in silence that was progressively more amicable.

It shifted so subtly that Leo didn’t really notice until they were setting up for their first game of chess, and he was teaching Takumi the basics, stunned. His voice seemed to belong to somebody else. He watched Takumi move the board pieces, long fingers calloused and precise, and Leo wondered what he was doing there.

 _See?_ Camilla had said smugly one night, after Takumi had come by the tent, practically thrown a book at Leo because he had insisted the other prince borrow it, and rushed away. _We all knew you two would eventually become friends. Like twins, you are. Why is your face all twisted up like that, darling? It’s a precious thing._

Friends. Leo rolled the term over and over again in his head, dissecting it. Leo had never really had _friends._ He had acquaintances, and he had servants, and he had books. As far as he was concerned, that was all moving him along just fine in life (discounting the severe bouts of loneliness that sometimes crawled all over him in the small hours of morning, but he pointedly ignored that).

Yes, friends with the bratty Hoshidan prince, the boy whose hair made a _bsolutely no sense_ and whose voice broke if he yelled too loudly. He was prickly at best, downright rude at worst – and he was also sometimes unexpectedly shy, and oddly soft-hearted, and when he laughed he meant it.

Leo noticed these things as the months passed, until noticing Takumi became second-hand, until the Hoshidan prince was the first person that his gaze sought in a room crowded with people.

 _Write to me,_ Takumi had said before they departed, back to Hoshido, back to the land of sun. _We’ll see each other again soon, won’t we?_

Leo thinks back on that moment often; Takumi’s question had been honest, and he had seemed almost worried. It was all there in his eyes, that warm amber that Leo had grown accustomed to looking at, deadset. Even when Takumi's mouth was lying, as he sometimes did, his eyes betrayed him. A heavier question hung between them, but neither of them were willing to ask it, whatever it may have been.

He could have answered with _of course I’ll write to you, I’d want to write to no one else,_ or _I’ll miss you._ He could have embraced Takumi and gotten over the embarrassment of showing affection for even two seconds. There were plenty of ways he could have chosen to respond, but instead he had said, _surely we will._

And that was that.

 

* * *

 

 

“My lord?” Niles called, and Leo glanced over his shoulder, slowing down just a little as Niles jogged to catch up, arms overflowing with papers.

“My, Niles, you look like quite the scholar right now.”

“These are all the reports you’re presenting for the meeting,” his retainer said wearily, trying in vain to shuffle them into a more orderly fashion while they walked. Their footfalls echoed in the long hallway, and after having been out in the open for a few weeks, it seemed suffocating.

“Did I not tell you to let me organize them later?”

“Well, they’re not exactly organized…as you can see. Pardon me for saying so, but we’re running out of time,” Niles pointed out. “You seemed to have gotten a little distracted, hm?”

“I would have gotten to them,” Leo replied, and he snatched the piles of paper from Niles’ arms. A few fluttered to the ground, and he paused before picking them up with as much dignity as he could muster. Niles watched, expression unreadable, and cleared his throat.

“May I offer a word of advice, my lord?”

“If I give you a no, you’ll just find a way to say what you wanted to say in some conniving manner. So yes, I suppose you can.”

Slowly, they started on their way again, Leo glancing through the scribbles of his own handwriting while he tried to put them in the order that he had mentally tasked for himself. He had it all laid out in his head, and he never got frazzled during meetings, but there was still an unfounded fear that he would completely choke while speaking and not get his point across. So he organized.

“First of all, my conniving manners only have your best interests in mind,” Niles said mildly, tucking a piece of white hair behind his ear, “and I tell you what I must. Out of love and loyalty, of course.”

“Mhm.”

“…so it’s with love and loyalty that I remind you to take time for personal affairs.”

“I take plenty of time for – personal affairs.”

“Speaking to your siblings doesn’t count. I’m talking about our young Hoshidan prince, of course.”

Leo’s fingers stilled, face carefully neutral as he glanced over at Niles. His retainer was looking at him with a smile that was all too familiar – that was, smug in a way that made Leo want to throttle him. He batted the eyelashes of his one good eye, and Leo frowned.

“What does Prince Takumi have to do with my personal affairs?” he asked, feigning disinterest (which hardly ever worked on Niles, but it was worth a shot).

“You two are _close_ friends, aren’t you?” Niles asked in a way that didn’t sound like a question. “While he’s here, you should make good on the time you have. I know you, my lord, always putting duty before anything else. I just believe it would do well for me to remind you that you are young - ”

“Niles - ”

“ – and you should enjoy having a friend, which means not always putting work first. No?”

“That was admittedly much more tame advice than I thought you were going to offer,” Leo said dryly. 

“Yes, well, I try to offer responsible advice from time to time. Otherwise, what kind of retainer would I be?” Niles replied. “Oh, and while I’m at it, Prince Takumi looked quite comfortable riding behind you while we were traveling back to the castle. Isn’t that fortunate?”

“That’s more what I was expecting. You’re dismissed.”

“Understood.”

 

* * *

 

 The sky in Nohr was a deep blue, nearly black, and Leo rested his chin on his fist as he watched the last of the light die behind the hills. It was cold in the meeting room, the windows large and high and not at all helpful in blocking chill.

From the seat next to him, Xander was murmuring to a member of the council, Sir Mordred, a stern man who Leo didn’t exactly favor, but his opinions were highly valued in political terms. He knew how to oversee financial proceedings better than anyone from Garon’s old council could have, but that surely didn’t mean he was polite, or even agreeable.

“Shall we start?” commented Camilla as she sat forward in her chair, a heavy velvet cloak wrapped around her shoulders. “We’ll all freeze to death before Leo has any chance to say his piece, I fear.”

“Prince Takumi is not yet here,” Leo replied, avoiding the way Xander’s gaze turned up to look at him. “Give him a minute more.”

“We’re already behind,” Sir Mordred quipped, flipping his writing quill around his fingers once. “We cannot wait on one who decided to not be punctual.”

“May I ask why it was necessary to proceed with the meeting tonight at all?” Camilla asked before Leo could cut in. “Lord Ryoma will be here by morning tomorrow, if the weather allows it. Should we not wait for him?” 

“Pardon me if it’s presumptuous to say, but Prince Takumi is overseeing on Lord Ryoma’s behalf,” said Charles, their scribe. “All transcripts will be given to the Lord when he arrives tomorrow and Prince Takumi can relay any necessary information.”

“If and when he arrives,” muttered Sir Mordred.   

At that, Leo felt his lips tighten, but before he could insist on pushing the meeting back for just a minute more, the heavy oaken door flew open and a flustered Takumi came bursting through. The timing would have been comical if Leo hadn't felt the stress of the meeting weighing on him like a stone, but still, he rose his brows. Everyone’s heads turned to look at the Hoshidan prince, and Leo could see that the red on his face was spreading to his ears. He was terribly readable.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize I was running behind schedule,” Takumi said, and Leo could have snorted. Takumi, for all his sputtering and occasional outbursts, was well trained to slip into formalities when it was needed. Sometimes, Leo was abruptly reminded that the other was a prince just as he himself was.

“No apologies needed,” Leo replied coolly. “Have a seat, we’ll get started.”

Takumi sat next to Elise in a hurry, and she reached out to pat his arm quickly before placing it back politely to her lap.

“Let’s call it to order, then. Charles, are we dated and timed?” Xander asked, and when Charles responded with his usual, ‘yes, my Lord’, he continued, “Good. Leo, proceed.”

Leo gathered his papers, and he took a moment to glance around the room before he spoke. He caught Takumi’s gaze, and the Hoshidan prince rolled his eyes as if to say _get on with it_ , and so he did: each paper was read through, noted in detail, everything he had seen. The past weeks had him traveling through ravaged villages alongside the ones that were still chugging along, countless civilians coming to him to plead – _no food, pillages and riots, imports and exports were a mess._  Countlesssections of forest and field had been burned to cinders and covered with snow. Not everything was completely ruined, as Leo had feared. Some towns had been blessed with good fortunate and made it through the war mostly unscathed.  

But that didn’t do much for the rest of their people, who found themselves without money, hungry, enraged. The force of their obvious misery had left him tossing and turning each night, working through solutions in his head as if he could fix the problems right then and there. Somehow, he hadn't been entirely prepared to face the consequences of their war firsthand, but he didn't think anyone could quite be prepared for that. 

The guilt was so palpable that it could have suffocated him, if he let it.

“How far into Hoshidan borders did you go?” Xander asked once Leo took moment to pause, and Leo cleared his throat.

“I didn’t. With due respect, the truce is so fresh, there’s been no talk of how and when borders will be opened. I didn’t want to trespass, especially when tensions are still high among civilians.”

“My brother mentioned briefly that one of the first matters he wanted to discuss was that of borders,” Takumi spoke up. “Hoshido’s crop yield held up fairly well. He believes that if we can explore options for import and export, it will quell some of the resisting from areas that don’t support the truce of the kingdoms.”

“Very well,” Xander replied, scribbling something down in his personal notes. “I’ll look forward to hearing his thoughts. As for what Leo has described this evening, I have much to think on before we meet with Lord Ryoma tomorrow. I wasn’t aware of the damage extent.”

“I think that, for now, we can only discuss solution strategies that concern our kingdom alone. Having the Hoshidan family here for a full meeting tomorrow will be helpful for discussing what we will do between our lands, of course.”

“I have _ideas,”_ Elise exclaimed, and considering the fact that she had been quiet for most of the meeting, Leo wondered how long she had been holding in a whole stream of words. Takumi bit his bottom lip, and Leo recognized that he was trying not to laugh.

“Now is the time for ideas, Elise, as long as they’re relevant,” Xander said, not unkindly. “Go on.”

For the first time since the meeting had started, Leo allowed himself to sit, suddenly weary from all of his talking. He was tired from all of his constant travels, admittedly disheartened, but he listened dutifully as his siblings discussed what they might do, effective immediately.

 _Tomorrow,_ he thought, tomorrow he would input more for solutions. For tonight, he felt his job was done. He wanted to read something besides his own dreary notes, and rest.

Outside, the moon roved higher in the sky, and snow started to come down again, gently, with no hurry. The room grew colder still. Unsurprisingly, it was Camilla who suggested they put an end to their discussion for the time being.

“We’ll start earlier tomorrow. Let’s hope that our guests arrive safely,” Xander said, standing. Sir Mordred leaned closed to him, whispered something, and he nodded.

“Consider adding to our agenda,” Camilla said, “the small order of putting curtains in this damned room.”

“I’ll consider it,” came the dry reply, and Camilla pulled her cloak tight to her throat, turned on her heel, and went over to put a hand on Elise’s back. The two sisters left the room, bidding their goodnights.

Leo handed his notes to Xander, who took them slowly, and said, “Thank you. For what you’ve done. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“But necessary.”

“Get some rest,” his brother told him, before turning his head to look down the long mahogany table at the doorway. From this angle, Leo could see the soft lines that were forming around his brother’s mouth and near his eyes. He was not old, not nearly, but stress had worn him down like a pebble. Did his brother sleep better at night, now, a fresh king? Or was he like Leo, who hardly slept at all?

Leo made his way to the door, and Takumi was waiting there, raising his brows.

“Prince Takumi,” Xander called, and Leo paused. Both princes looked at the king. “A word, please.”

“We can talk later,” Takumi said lowly, and gave his arm a quick punch.

And then he was walking towards Xander, ponytail swishing, and Leo had no choice but to leave or risk looking awkward. He wasn’t just going to _stand there_ , hovering, though he felt his blood boil with curiosity at what Xander could say to Takumi where it was obvious Leo need not be present.

So he left, taking the walk back to his room alone, temples starting to throb with the edge of a headache. It felt odd to suddenly have free time, so after he settled in his room and yanked off his boots, he dug into the old chest that sat at the foot of his bed. He kept clutters of items in there, random things he had no real place for, and from it he pulled a bottle of wine that had been gifted to him…he wasn’t sure how long ago. 

Order of business: sit down. Drink red wine. Start a book he had been meaning to get to for ages. Drink more red wine. Do not think about all the work that was yet to be done. Finish bottle of red wine. Go to sleep before the sun came up.

He lit the fireplace and, realizing that he had no goblet or glass, drank the wine straight from the bottle. No one would see him here, so manners could sit by the wayside (Camilla had taught him that most alcohol tasted better straight out of the bottle anyway, and when he had asked why, she had said _just because)_.

Tomorrow, Lord Ryoma would arrive, Lady Hinoka and Sakura in tow, all in Nohr for the first time since the war had settled. Even in camp, once they were allied, the tension was always palpable in the room when they were all together. He hoped that the time apart, separated from violent situations, would make it easier for them to handle each other.

Hoshido was a world separated from Nohr, day and night, their customs and pasts so drastically different that he was surprised when two things coincided. Himself and Takumi, for example. After a while, he had stopped being so shocked when he and the Hoshidan prince found out they had yet another thing in common. They would always be different people, with different histories, and a whole field of blood between them. Nothing could erase that, no matter if they tried.

But healing wasn’t impossible. It felt like the wound got pulled with one more stitch each day, even when it threatened to rip straight open.

Leo reached out and lifted the heavy black velvet of the window curtain, and snow drifted past the window in lazy circles. He let it drop shut, and with a sigh that seemed too loud for the room, cracked open his book. There would never be a bigger comfort than getting pulled in by words, like he was momentarily being torn away from his own brain. Just for a few minutes, an hour, _hours_ , however long he had to spare inside of a story that wasn’t his own.

They called him studious, their bookworm little brother – as if the books had just been for fun, for learning, and were not equally as important for his survival. Because Leo needed no one, and needed too much at the same time, but putting his head in a book was easier than admitting loneliness.

When he poured the wine down his throat, it tasted thick and warm and bitter.

Time passed with each tick of the clock, and he finished one chapter, then two, then five without stopping. He could have finished more than half of the entirety had a knock not fallen upon his door.

“Come in,” he called, not looking up, expecting it to be Niles come to bid him goodnight or even Elise if she couldn’t sleep.

“We’re drinking straight out of the bottle now? I thought you were less stressed.”

Leo jerked his gaze up immediately, and there was Takumi, walking in and settling into the chair across from him. His hair was twisted into a thick, silver braid, and he stretched his legs out by the fire, the slippers on his feet looking a little ridiculous compared to the cold stone floor. Even in Nohr, he refused to wear the clothes they offered to give him; the blue yukata was a familiar sight, as he had worn it so often in camp that Leo was surprised it didn’t unravel at the seams.

Takumi glanced over, his eyes lit up almost gold by the light of the fire. For a moment, just a moment, Leo found himself unexpectedly speechless.

“I didn’t have a glass,” Leo replied, and was horrified when his speech came out almost slurred.

“Uh-huh. That’s kind of obvious,” Takumi said, and stretched his hand out. “Let me try.”

Without a word, Leo handed the bottle over, watched as Takumi squinted at the label before taking a deep pull. His face screwed up, and Leo snorted.

“It’s so bitter,” Takumi complained, but took a second sip anyway.

“So you drink more?”

“I was hoping it would go down smoother the second time. It’s not so bad.”

“Wine is easy. If you want to really suffer, drink bourbon. Or whiskey, gods forbid.”

“You know, in Hoshido, we like to drink for pleasure, not because we have an early death wish,” Takumi scoffed, and when he tried to hand the bottle back, Leo waved it away.

“Keep it. I’ve had too much,” he said. “You couldn’t sleep?”

“I can’t sleep well on a good night, once I actually get to sleep. Tonight it just seemed impossible. What are you reading?”

“ _A Call for Winter_. It’s been interesting so far, so I’m impressed - I’m picky with fantasy. I’ve been reading too many history and strategy books lately, I think. I nearly forgot what it was like to read a genre outside of them,” Leo said.

“I understand,” the other prince replied, pulling his braid over his shoulder and absentmindedly brushing the strands at the end between thumb and index. They didn’t speak for a moment, both of them choosing instead to stare at the fire. It crackled, burning heartily, and Leo had spent so many of his past weeks being perpetually cold that the warmth of the room and wine in his stomach was actually making him sleepy.

“My mother,” Takumi said suddenly, voice quiet, “my biological mother, I mean - she read to me a lot when I was little, before I would go to sleep. Mostly folklore, from our country. When she passed away, I felt I was too old for such things. But when my stepmother read to Sakura, I would sometimes sit there, in the room. Or do it myself.”

“I’ve heard mothers are supposed to do such things,” Leo found himself saying, and Takumi’s fingers paused from stroking along his hair. Had Takumi’s mother brushed his hair when he was a child, too, as a good mother does? He was always touching it whenever his hands were idle, as if it were calming. The Hoshidan prince had long fingers, calloused from his bow. Strong hands. Leo wondered what they would feel like in his hair, and then shook the thought away as quickly as it appeared.

“What was your mother like?”

“Hm?”

“Your mother,” Takumi said again, a little louder, “what was she like?”

Leo worried his bottom lip for a second, thinking. He remembered his mother vaguely, in flashes. Long blonde hair and eyes that flashed sharp as ice chips, hands that clenched a little too hard. Perfume, always floral, always strong.

“Beautiful,” he answered, “but there wasn’t much in her heart. We didn’t love each other.”

“Oh,” was all Takumi replied with, as though uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t - ” Leo started to apologize (for what, he wasn’t sure), but Takumi cut him off quickly.

 “It’s fine, no, don’t say you’re sorry. I had just never heard you talk about your mother before, though I had mentioned mine more than once.”

“I don’t much like remembering her, and there’s not much to remember. She’s like a ghost. Camilla tried to be more of a mother figure when I was younger, but I didn’t take to it. I never knew…” he trailed off, and Takumi sipped at the wine, waiting for Leo to continue.

When he didn’t, Takumi prompted with, “You never knew what?”

“What to do, with all of Camilla’s love and affection. I didn’t want to be babied, because I wanted to be treated like adults were. But at the same time, I think – I think I just wasn’t used to it, and a part of me was scared of it.”

When the words fell from his mouth, Leo promptly pressed his lips into a firm line, as if to keep them from further betraying him. It felt like, if Takumi asked him anything, the answers would just spill out. The wine had made his throat loose.

“I get it,” Takumi said, and his gaze on Leo’s face revealed nothing sinister – no mockery, no sarcasm. He was being truthful. “I do.”

“…anyway, take this book when I’m done with it,” Leo diverted, almost awkwardly, and Takumi allowed the abrupt change in conversation. “Though, I will say, our main character goes off to war within the first chapter.”

“I’d think we should be tired of war plots by now,” Takumi replied, his mouth quirking into a smile.

“Well, they say that war and sex are the only two constants in human history.”

“And you would know each of those constantly?” Takumi asked, both brows raising.

“I – well – no,” Leo sputtered, and he could feel his face grow hotter with each second, especially when Takumi burst out laughing. “It’s a _saying_.”

“I know, I know,” Takumi said, standing, still laughing. “And a pretty true one, at that.”

“And _you_ would know that, but not me?” Leo muttered, cracking his book back open.

“Have you ever even kissed anyone?”

Leo, whose fingers were skimming over the page to turn it, froze.

“Excuse me?”

“I know the wine hasn’t plugged your ears.”

“And I also haven’t had enough wine to have this conversation with you.”

“I just asked about _kissing,_ gods,” Takumi said, and Leo looked up just in time to see him roll his eyes. The other prince set the bottle of wine on the tea table and straightened his yukata. “Fine, then, I'll leave you to your reading. I'm going to walk around until I tire. But I’ll remember that you didn’t answer me.”

“Threatening.”

“Goodnight, _Prince Leo.”_

“Goodnight, _Lord Takumi.”_

Takumi shook his head, but Leo thought he was still smiling, even as he turned and left the room.

In his absence, the silence was deafening.

 

* * *

 

When the morning came, the Hoshidan family (sans their dearest young brother, of course) arrived at the castle, unscathed but certainly cold. They were ushered inside, offered hot tea and breakfast before they were barely inside the doors, the servants frazzled by their high-title guests when the castle hadn’t really seen new visitors in years.

Takumi was begrudgingly awake to greet his siblings, all of who were relieved to see him doing well; Ryoma clapped a hand onto his shoulder, Hinoka gave him a bone-crushing hug, Sakura kissed his cheek, and they all had questions to ask him: how was he, what had he learned here, were the Nohrians treating him well? Still half asleep, he did his best to answer them before he got irritated and insisted they just go to the dining room and unwind.

In the front hall, all of the Nohrian family was gathered to greet them. Elise, somehow, using energetic force that no one really understood, was awake enough to squeal and embrace Sakura, who patted her back politely in return.

“We’re glad you arrived safely,” Xander said, reaching a hand out to shake Ryoma’s, “though the roads have to be terrible.”

“All of the snow was a struggle to get through. We don’t see it like this in Hoshido,” Ryoma responded. “But it was nothing deathly.”

“We’re glad for that. We’ll accompany you to dining, I’m sure you need it after your travels.”

The two kings, heads bent together, walked down the long hall, already talking about their daily agenda.

“How do they discuss anything this early?” Takumi yawned, walking up to Leo, who had already been bathed and dressed an hour before anyone got to the castle.

“You’re just not a morning person,” he said, and then nodded when Elise dragged Sakura over. “Lady Sakura, it’s been a while. I trust you’re well.”

“I’m – I’m doing just fine,” Sakura responded.

“We’re going to help Camilla quilt after breakfast!” Elise exclaimed, and then she was dragging Sakura away with, “You have to see my _room!”_

By the time they all made it to the dining hall, hot tea was being poured as promised, and food plated – warm scones with sweet butters, porridge with cinnamon and nutmeg, fruits that had been preserved over the summer and simmered in syrup, slices of bacon and poached egg.

Needless to say, it may have been too much, but the Hoshidan family still politely thanked them for the hospitality. Leo figured they were wondering how they were possibly going to eat half of what was on their plates. All he knew about breakfast in Hoshido was that it was normally light, and this was decidedly not.

He had worried, admittedly, that the meal would be awkward. They were eating together for the first time since camp, on Nohrian turf, without the weight of war hanging over them to occupy all thoughts and conversation. And, surely, conversation came a little slow, a little stilted (minus Elise, who was talking Sakura’s ear off), but it wasn’t horrible. It was a small relief out of many stresses.

“I’m just glad to be inside,” Hinoka sighed, warming her hands on her cup. “Miles and miles of seeing nothing but snow could drive anyone crazy.”

“And I’d rather be out,” Takumi replied to her. “Hinata and I took a walk the other day to try and get out of the castle, and we didn't exactly make it far before the weather out here tried to bury us.”

“Our Leo had to give Prince Takumi and his loyal retainer a ride back so they wouldn’t get smothered in the storm,” Camilla said, muffling her smile behind her hand when Takumi and Leo both gave her a withering look.

“Storms usually come in the evening, here. If you want to get out for a walk, I’d go now, in the morning,” Leo provided. “I can show you around the courtyard, if you’d like. It’s better than feeling as though you’re going stir crazy.”

“I won’t say no to that,” Takumi said. “I’m assuming you’ll be inside, Hinoka? Resting your feet by the fire and trimming your nails?”

“For a whole week, I had almost forgotten that you were a brat,” she said, and Takumi smiled smugly. “Lady Camilla has promised to help me learn to quilt, and I’ll be doing so.”

“Enjoy pricking your fingers and not getting anything quilted.”

“I hope Lord Leo buries you underneath all the snow,” she muttered, taking a sip of her tea and resolutely ignoring Takumi for the rest of breakfast, as all big sisters were skilled in doing.

 

* * *

 

 

The snow was knee deep, but it didn’t seem to dampen Takumi’s enthusiasm as he sloshed through all of it. The morning was not nearly as cold as the past days had been, though the sun was muffled beneath a sheet of solid grey sky.

Leo trailed behind him, adjusting his gloves. It felt comforting to be walking through his own courtyard on what was nothing more than a stroll. Since there was no objective or task to be accomplished, he took his time, though Takumi yelled for him to hurry up.

“There’s nowhere for me to hurry to,” he answered amicably. “Why are you trying to run?”

“I’m not. It just feels good to be outside - when I’m not lost, that is. And there isn’t a blizzard coming,” Takumi said, and he stopped, waiting for Leo to catch up. He breathed heavily, clouds of white air floating in front of a mouth that was pale with chill.

“Look,” he continued, and pointed, “it’s you.”

Leo followed the direction of his finger to the center of the courtyard, wherein sat the object he was jabbing at. In the summer, it was a working fountain, but for now it was merely a statue – a huge stone lion, mouth agape in a roar.

“It spits water during the summertime,” Leo said dryly.

“Nohr has summers? Huh. I figured it never stopped being dark and terrifying.”

“Yes, well, summers are mild…”

“So you’re not disproving me.”

Leo scoffed and kept walking, leaving Takumi to follow him. They went without talking, only bird calls and the wind brushing over the land to fill the silence. Leo, as much as he grudgingly admitted to enjoying his banters with the young prince, was similarly happy with their silences.

After he had gotten to know Takumi, he found that the man did, in fact, know how to shut up every now and again. The lulls in their conversations didn’t feel unnatural, and so Leo didn’t mind them. He took the time to watch Takumi as he surveyed the courtyard, going up to the statues and touching them in what could be considered fascination. It gave Leo the quiet that he needed to see Takumi as he was. How he really was. He could learn just as much in their conversations as he could in their silence. So no, nothing was wrong with a blank space in the air. These moments of hush were telling of their relationship as it was. They were, if he were being honest, _peaceful –_

Sudden cold cracked over the back of Leo’s head, and he jilted forward, throwing a hand up in the air to block an attack that had already happened. The sound of Takumi’s laughter snapped through the space between them, and Leo spun around, eyes wide.

“Did you – no!” Leo yelled, and ducked to avoid the second snowball that flew toward his face.

“Coward!” Takumi hollered.

“How am I the coward?! I wasn’t even looking when you threw the first one!”

“What would have been the fun if you had been looking?” Takumi asked, and bent to scoop up more snow, much to Leo’s horror.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I dare.”

“I was trying to join you on a _calming walk_ – “

“Pummeling you in the face with snow is my idea of calming.”

“Insufferable,” Leo snapped while he threw the hood of his coat up, and then he started gathering up snow as fast as he could. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, _he wasn’t a five-year-old_. He was an adult who had survived a war, he told himself, he was perfectly capable of maturity and diligence. And yes, he was about to beat Takumi’s ass in a snowball fight - duality of man.

Leo wasn’t a loser, after all.

He packed the biggest snowball he could, and just as he stood up, Takumi launched another. Leo swayed to the side, and it burst against his shoulder. Without exactly aiming, he hurled the snowball he had just made, and it nailed Takumi right in the collarbones. The snow exploded up against his face, and Leo let out a crow of satisfaction.

“First luck!” Takumi said, surging forward, and Leo backed away as he quickly as he could without tripping. For two master strategists, neither of them was exactly eloquent when it came to tossing snowballs – rather, they just kind of flung around half-formed lumps, yelling at each other like crazy men.

It wouldn’t have surprised anyone to see that it quickly spiraled out of control, mostly due to Takumi, who stopped throwing snowballs and started just heaving complete armfuls of snow at Leo. And Leo, in turn, started kicking snow up like he was trying to personally clear the entire courtyard.

“You’re - ” Leo started, and grunted as he blocked a whole barrage of snow, “a child!”

He realized Takumi had closed the gap between them right before the other prince grabbed him by the collar. Leo had hardly any chance to tell him he would absolutely murder him before Takumi was shoveling snow down the front of his tunic.

The freeze against his chest was immediate and Leo shoved Takumi at the shoulders, not accounting for the fact that Takumi still had a hand fisted in his coat to keep him from escaping. They both crashed down, Takumi muffled by the soft ground and Leo muffled by Takumi’s body, which he fell directly on top of. A punch of air escaped Takumi in a rush as Leo practically pierced his ribs with one bony elbow, and the Nohrian prince rolled off of the other with a grunt.

They laid there on their backs, wheezing, cold and wet.

“I,” Leo began, and punctured the sentence with a cough, “am going to smother you in your sleep.”

“Looking forward to it,” Takumi managed, voice cracking as he tried to recover from the blow that had been dealt to his chest.

As they tried to catch their breath, a voice carried from up above, yelling, “That was entertaining, you two! The best show I've ever seen!”

Alarmed, they both squinted at the castle's sides, and about four floors up, Hinoka leaned out of the window that she had just cracked open. All four of the sisters were there, obviously dissolving with laughing.

“Will there be an encore?” Elise hollered.

Leo, who was trying to rapidly accept the fact that they had seen everything and would never let him live this down, rolled his head to the side to give Takumi the nastiest glare he could muster.

And though he didn't reply, Takumi let his forearm rest over his face and sighed, long and slow. That seemed to be answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading to chapter 2, if you're here! I struggled with trying to plot out the next few chapters for a bit, but I think I finally got them down well enough that I can barrel on ahead. It feels super nice to be motivated to write more than one chapter (for the first time in a long time tbqh). As always, any kudos or comments are very appreciated!
> 
> You can find me at laceandcaramel.tumblr.com or on Instagram @ seafoam_sighs


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